Sacrifice
by Trn736
Summary: We all knew he was more than capable of something like this. I guess we all just thought he never would. We were ignorant. We – I – should have seen this coming… (Rated M for Language and Violence)


Cartman.

Eric Cartman.

Sure we all knew he was a racist, homophobic, anti-semitic , lazy, self-righteous asshole… But we never dreamt he was capable of something like this. Capable isn't the right word, I suppose; we all knew he was more than capable of something like this. I guess we all just thought he never would. We were ignorant. We – _I –_ should have seen this coming…

Little did I know my life would never be the same when I woke up last Tuesday morning…

Last Tuesday morning… The day my life was turned upside down.

* * *

The day started off normal enough.

I got up, I took a shower, I put on some clean clothes…

I had a Pop-Tart for breakfast before saying goodbye to my mom and Ike – dad was already gone for work.

I arrived at the bus stop just in time to have my routine morning bicker session with the fat boy…

"Hey, Jew. Nice day isn't it?"

"My name is Kyle, fatass!"

"Your name is whatever the fuck I call you, you fucking kike!"

I should have known something was up right there, Cartman wasn't usually _that_ pissed until later in the day.

"What the fuck is wrong with you today?! Did you wake up floating in the wrong side of your lard tank this morning or is your mom on the cover of the latest Crack Whore magazine?!"

He chuckled, "We need another genocide... The Holocaust, unfortunately, had a few survivors…"

"More than a few people survived The Holocaust and the Jewish population is growing, retard!"

"Somebody needs to do something about that!" He spat.

I rolled my eyes at him and greeted Stan as he walked up to us.

We talked until the bus arrived.

We took our normal seats and talked some more until we arrived at school.

We hit our lockers to grab our books and headed to class.

Mr. Garrison was already sitting at his desk when Stan and I walked into the room, we were some of the first few people there.

"Did you get to watch the Broncos game last night?" Stan asked me as we sat down.

"No, I had to go to some stupid music thing the kindergarteners put on with my parents to see my brother…"

"Dude, that sucks! It was a fantastic game! The Broncos destroyed them!"

"Sweet!"

"You should have seen this interception in the third quarter! It was like one of the craziest things I've ever seen!"

"Damn! I'll have to watch it on the internet later…"

The bell rang.

The entire class was accounted for, except Eric Cartman.

"Alright, class… Today I want to begin with a lesson on –" Garrison was interrupted when the classroom door swung open… I think he must have kicked it in…

He stood in the doorway with a hand behind his back.

"Eric Theodore Cartman what in the hell do you think you're doing?!" Garrison yelled at Cartman a lot; never once with his middle name… I guess it was a special day…

I think I almost saw him hesitate.

"Something I should have done a long time ago you fucking faggot!"

He swung his arm around.

He had a gun.

The cracking noise it made when he pulled the trigger was deafening. I don't know if it was because we were close to it or if it was because of another reason.

Garrison fell to the floor, blood oozing out of a small hole almost right in the middle of his forehead.

"Holy shit!" Stan and I exasperated in unison as the whole class burst into panicked screams, yells, and cries.

"All of you to that fucking corner right now!" Cartman screamed, firing another shot into the wall behind the desks.

Everyone complied instantly.

"Cartman, what the hell are you doing?!" I was distraught – We all were.

"Shut up!" I think he smacked me in the head with his pistol.

I remember feeling a sudden impulse of pain and then everything just kinda went black…

I remember cracking my eyes open sometime after that to be greeted with a blurry image of Stan; we were all on the floor and he was cradling my head in his lap.

"Kyle!" He whispered, obviously happy I was awake.

"Stan…?"

"Shh! Be quiet…"

I could feel blood trickling down the side of my head.

He slowly sat me up against the wall beside him.

As I began to regain my senses I remember seeing Cartman pacing around the room, the door was closed and all the window shades were pulled.

I could hear sirens, the cops were obviously there.

"No! You don't seem to understand me _officer_! I have about 15 hostages in here and this is your last chance to give me what I want before I start killing them!"

I felt sick after hearing that… _'Before I start killing them...'_

He hung up the phone.

"Look… Cartman, I don't know why you're doing this but you can still stop…," Stan begged him to reconsider.

"You see this dead body, Stan?!" He pointed to Garrison, snarling, "There's no going back now…"

"There may be no going back from that, dude but you can still stop right here… Everything will be okay, I promise…," he tried hard to convince the deranged boy.

"Everything is not going to be okay, Stan!"

The phone rang.

We all watched as rage consumed him.

"What do you fucking mean that isn't going to be possible?!"

There was a pause.

"You're stalling! You don't think I'll do it!" He screamed, "We'll this dead kid's blood is on your hands you fucking idiot!" He threw the phone at the wall.

I'm not sure how everyone else reacted as he walked up to us waving his gun – probably as scared as I felt, knowing one of us was about to die.

He approached me.

"Looks like you woke up just in time, Kyle… Jews first!" He grabbed me by the jacket and drug me over to the window.

"Kyle! No!" Stan reached for me, Cartman swatted his arm away.

He kicked me to my knees and opened the shade – a public execution.

I felt the cold barrel of the gun make contact with my head.

"Any last words?" He spoke with such satisfaction – it makes me sick.

I remember looking over at my classmates, most of them had their eyes shielded – they didn't want to see this.

Stan on the other hand… I made eye contact with Stan… I looked him straight in the eyes and watched as tear after tear escaped them and ran down his cheeks.

It's funny. People always say that right before you think you're going to die, your whole life flashes before your eyes… I think that actually happened… My first memory was of preschool… First grade, second grade, third grade, birthdays, sleepovers… Every memory that flashed through my mind in that brief second was of me and Stan… That's what super best friendship does for a person I guess…

"Wait!" Stan cried suddenly, Cartman turned to him.

"Wait! Please, Cartman! Don't kill Kyle! You just need somebody! Take me instead!"

I looked at him, dumbfounded.

"What – what are you doing, Stan…?" I asked through tears.

"Aww, isn't that sweet? The hippie trying to save his faggy Jew boyfriend…"

"Kyle isn't my boyfriend you stupid fucking asshole!" Stan yelled louder than I ever heard him yell before, "Kyle is my super best friend! Kyle and I have something you'll never have you fucking psychopathic prick – a friendship stronger than brotherhood!"

Cartman stormed over to Stan and pointed the gun at his head, "I'll just fucking kill both of you then! Two peas in a fucking pod!"

What happened next is all a blur.

Almost instantaneously there were two gunshots… The smell of gunpowder… The sting of fresh embers floating off the muzzle.

I closed my eyes tight through the commotion.

When I opened them, I could see the window was shattered.

Cartman was lying still on the ground.

Stan remained on his knees, he looked stunned.

I saw a large blood spot begin to soak through his coat.

He fell onto his side.

"Stan!" I rushed to his side and immediately started putting pressure on the blood-soaked area.

He looked really pale.

"Well…," he coughed up blood, "That didn't work out quite as planned…"

"What are you all waiting for?!" I yelled at my classmates, threat now neutralized, "Go get help!"

"You'll be okay, Stan! You'll be okay…," I choked through tears.

I could see his eyes beginning to droop.

"Stan… Please don't die… Please!" I hugged him.

He hugged me back, weakly.

"It's okay Kyle… You're okay...," he said shakily.

"It's not okay, Stan!" I wanted to yell, "I don't know what I'd do if you died… Please, Stan… Don't do this to me…!" I sobbed.

He smiled tiredly.

"We'll always be super best friends, dude…"

* * *

_Tears are the words my heart uses_

_To explain that even my fake smiles can't cover up my pain_

_And even though you're gone we'll never be apart_

_Because no matter what the distance_

_You'll always be in my heart_

* * *

_**Stanley Marsh**_

_Beloved Son, Grandson, & Super Best Friend_

_**October 19, 2001 – November 9, 2011**_


End file.
